Confessions.

Did anyone else watch today's Oprah Show about the "Secret Lives of Moms"? It was a back-and-forth about the perils and confessions of motherhood. Mothers everywhere confided how they'd like to trade their husbands for a housekeeper. They complained how at certain points in their lives they concluded that having a baby was a big mistake, that they had to reinvent themselves to encompass the huge sacrifice they made as a parent.

After watching the show I slumped down in my seat. I felt somewhat relieved that other mothers hated poo! as much as I did, and sometimes went a few days without a shower. But something was missing. I felt a little empty, a little icky. Maybe I waited for someone to say that putting your husband and your family first is okay. That we should focus on the mystery and grace that surrounds a good woman who is trying her best to be a good mother, whatever hardship might follow. There was so much beauty lost in that hour of snarky complaining.

So that I am completely clear, I am at times, the queen of complaints. I come in swinging with the best of them about how my life has become 24-7 servitude and how the person I used to be is floating above me somewhere, waiting for room to wriggle back in. How some days I am so impatient that I toss a few girls in time-out on my way to the couch before I stare at the wall for a few minutes in despair, pondering my next move.

One woman on the show said she sobbed the whole way to the mini-van dealership because she could not believe she was stooping to that level. Really? Is it really that bad? Can we just keep perspective here and be glad that you get a new car? Moms were one-upping each other the whole time like, "I completely lost my mind." "Well I completely lost my mind AND went to therapy." "OH YA? I completely lost my mind, killed someone, and THEN went to therapy".

I understand the need for validation. I need it all the time. But where is the love? There was no point in the show that anyone stood up and said, "But I love my children. I love their impossibleness and the fact that they don't shut up. I love their cute toes and the way they can't say their "R's". No one did. It was just... a little bit sad. Because if we all sacrifice daily, hate our jobs, and complain constantly, then where does that leave us? Hopeless.

(Look at me talking all fancy now that the kids are in bed. Call me tomorrow morning, I'll be singing a different tune!)

{Thank you for your comments. This something that all of us believe, and I devoured every single one of your words.}

Sunday Walk.

Here is the cottonmouth that we came across. Florida wildlife never disappoints. This was not taken with a zoom lens. I wasn't even scared.
Jake is the best dad. Seriously. No, really. He is.
Girls brought paper bags to collect nature discoveries. Specimen included grass, both dead and alive (and did not include snake).
I love them. Each of them. They're my gang, my mob, my popcorn-on-a-string. Their laughter is my favorite song on the radio.

In the future.

Let's just say, my house probably won't be clean when you come visit. The trash can might be sticky. There might be crayons on the floor and cheerios in the corner. There will probably be a pile of laundry in my bedroom. There might be cobwebs by the porch and a stroller parked on the doormat, and I won't even mention the condition of my van.

But we laugh. A lot. And I try to cook dinner. And the girls run around in their underwear or make water messes. And we laugh, most of the day. And in 20 years, I'll be a happy, laughy woman with a [finally] clean house, who will still be very blessed.

Rad outfit #521

Talked to Ruby again today about peeing. She says it's boring. And she's super sick of it. And sometimes she can't make it to the toilet because she wants to keep playing. Playing all the time, every second.

And peeing is boring.

Oh, the Issues.

A cousin of ours.

This was after:
The girls bossed their boy cousin around all morning.
They had him dance to ABBA for 20 minutes.
Ruby told me she was sick of peeing like a girl.

This was before:
Nearly a gallon of water was spilled on the kitchen floor.
They drank lemonade out of medicine droppers for 2 hours.
They memorized the words to the Go Diego Go! theme song.

Spring Break, Day 1

This shot wraps up who she is and packages it neatly. I will narrate. Her neck is slightly strained, so that her smile might reach the highest height possible. Her bottom hand is in a cupping shape. It wants to be neat and tidy, and it is. She is showing her teeth, but only because her parents like it. If it was up to her, she would cover them up like she does when she's nervous. Her favorite shirt, check, her favorite jeans, check. Which, by the tell-tale white sock showing are too short for her after only owning them for a month. And lastly, her sketchers. Never has a girl loved a name brand as much as my Gracie loves and talks about her sketchers.

What I see is milky white skin, smiling eyes, that thick black hair that silences me and a soul that is doing somersaults in that small body of hers. She writes loves notes to James R., envelopes them, takes them with her to school and as Daddy is dropping her off, gets nervous and stashes them in the glove compartment. She's too scared to ask the lunch lady to help her open her fruit cup, so she just doesn't eat it. She takes her pony tail out every single day and gives the hair elastic to Kelsey.

Today we took a family walk after dinner. We went over to the bridge that overlooks a lake. Grace ran far ahead and stood still suddenly, the wind blowing her hair. Her lips stuck out and her hands clutched the book that she just couldn't leave at home and I stopped and stared. And closed my eyes for a moment. I will never forget how she looked then. Absolutely the most beautiful living thing.

Unconditional Love

You think you're going to have it, you hope you will. But there's no guarantee until you have that baby and feel the unconditional love pour down over your scalp, spilling onto your shoulders. The shoulders that suddenly feel pounds of responsibility.

Last night she was up, up, and up again. Runny nose and fever and her just wanting to tear me limb from limb, and cuddle. Then awake too early, nursing too much, crying constantly. Right after her 52nd drink of the morning, I took her diaper off and she bolted faster than I could catch her. Crawling naked with thigh chub is a sight for the weary (that's me). She came back toward me, pulled herself up, and peed on my pajamas. That warm liquid went through to my skin quite nicely and I groaned. Time to get dressed, I guess.

The thing is, she's perfect. She's got all her fingers. She's got a pristine little nose that is perched in the middle of a gorgeous, expressive, understanding face. She dances. Her lymphatic and nervous system run properly. She's completely normal. And we're all so thankful for that. And I know we have it all. But there's one more thing. I would like to inform "influenza" that she is not welcome here and never was {no offense}.

Today while I vacuumed.

A Utah Funeral.

Grave site later that day. Very peaceful.

When we attended Pa's viewing on Friday, our mood was heavy with reality. It was quiet and solemn as we entered the viewing room and walked past our loved one. But as we came back out into the hall, a flurry of voices could be heard. The hall was completely full of the Radman family that Pa had created. There were cousins and siblings who loved each other, tossing back smiles and laughter. It was a room of love fit for a king and I think we knew who would have loved it most.

A Unique Example.

He is Jacob's grandfather, but I had the chance to spend lots of time with him. I could go on about what kind of man he was, what his hands looked like, the way he spoke, his firm grip and table etiquette. But what I remember most is how he always had a smile left for me.

Ivan Radman passed away on Saturday afternoon. People all over the world will miss him. We stand taller having known him and I feel privileged to be a part of his family. We will be in Salt Lake this weekend for his funeral.

Deseret News Obituary:

Ivan Radman 1928 ~ 2009

Ivan Radman passed away March 14, 2009 in the arms of his wife and children, blanketed in the love of 30 grandchildren, 19 great-grand-children and dear friends. Born, March 22, 1928 in Radmani on the Dalmatian Coast of Yugoslavia to Joseph Radman and Natalia Stefanic, Ivan learned early the value of dedication to task, wisdom in choice as well as the perils of totalitarianism. His young years were spent tending the family's farm and animals as well as serving in their small village grocery store. World War II brought turmoil and destruction to their region with friends and family members suffering the ravages of war. Forced from his family and homeland in his teens as a political refugee, Ivan sought asylum in Italy for the duration of the war before migrating to Australia in 1949 on a program for displaced persons.

Ivan met and married the love of his life, Janet Tredrea, whose love has enriched their 56 wondrous years together. They were subsequently sealed in the Logan temple for time and all eternity. Six children were born to their union, Peter, Martin, Jordan, Donna (Smylie), JoAnne (Crook), Bronte (Clarke). Ivan became a member of the LDS church in 1952 and has engaged in faithful service as a home teacher, bishop, mission president of the Italy Milan mission and the New Zealand Christchurch mission, as well as many other callings. Ivan cherished his experiences with his missionaries and has held dear in his heart each one individually. His love of, and devotion to gospel principles has been the cornerstone of his life.

In 1978 Ivan, Janet and family moved to the United States, settled in Salt Lake City, built a home, started a family business and eventually became proud US citizens. Ivan embraced life with enthusiasm, boundless energy, abiding respect for his fellow man, unwavering confidence in the resiliency of the human spirit and indomitable passion in all his endeavors. He loved sports, especially tennis and squash. In all his pursuits, Ivan brought his best game, a generosity of spirit, relentless effort and determination. He taught by example, inspired through actions and encouraged with exhortation and compassion. His greatest joy came through interaction with his family, friends and associates.

Ivan loved life, lived each day to its fullest, always maintained a sense of humor through adversity and rose to meet every challenge. He will be dearly missed. The family extends a special thanks to the doctors and nurses of the ICU at SL Regional Medical Center. Funeral services will be held on Saturday, March 21 at 12 p.m. at the LDS Mount Olympus 2nd Ward located at 3862 E. Oakview Drive (4342 S). Friends may call Friday, March 20 from 6-8 p.m. at Memorial Mortuary, 5850 S. 900 E. Burial will be in Holladay Memorial Park, 4900 Memory Lane (1900 E.) Condolences and contact info: jeanie.yates@wfengineering.com